


The Disappearances of Anstruther

by nothingwrongwithnerds



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1880s Scotland, A bit of vioence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Mermaids, Angst, Bad interpretation of history (probably), Blood, Descriptions of Corpses, Dream Invasion, Drinking alcohol to cope, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling head over heels in love quickly, Folklore, He/Him Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), I know the last one is weird but just go with this, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mystery, Romance, Strap in y'all this is a big one, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, lonely crowley, suicide is referenced but not followed through
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingwrongwithnerds/pseuds/nothingwrongwithnerds
Summary: The year is 1880, and there have been many strange disappearances within the small seaside town of Anstruther, Scotland. As the bodies of those who disappeared wash upon its shores, the townsfolk fear the worst: merfolk.When small pub owner Anthony J. Crowley hears high pitched squealing in the middle of the night, he rushes to check his fishing nets. Within them, he spots one of the accused. Here, Crowley must make a decision that may cost him his life: release it or capture the beast.~~~~~NEW CHAPTERS WILL BE UPDATED EVERY TUESDAY!! I'm not sure what time due to my job, but I will try for every Tuesday. :)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25
Collections: Good Omens Mini Bang





	The Disappearances of Anstruther

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is a new fic that I have made for the Good Omens Mini Bang over on Tumblr! I paired up with an AMAZING artist for this and I cannot wait to show you their art along with this fic.
> 
> You can find the artist on their Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/alessandraace or their Instagram: instagram.com/alessandrakingarts?igshid=1j9zd0k7u15rf
> 
> Note: This is a multi-chapter fic and will tackle dark themes. All the tags are listed above so please proceed with caution. 
> 
> Thank you so so much to everyone for making this possible!

It was a quiet morning. The sun shone through the small seaside house, illuminating the face of its owner. Crowley grumbled and sat up in bed, fumbling for his dark tinted glasses. He slipped them on and squinted towards the large round clock next to his bed. It read 7:06 a.m. 

He groaned and stretched, the tight muscles in his lithe body groaning with him. Afterwards, he slowly crawled out of bed. A dark robe enclosed Crowley as he made his way down a small set of stairs and to the kitchen. It was immensely brighter there, as the sun shone off the bright blue sea through a small window. 

“Thank God I put my sunglasses on,” he grumbled before making his coffee. As he finished, he heard a muffled _thump_ outside the door. He stepped out onto his small porch, grabbing the item that was thrown onto it. 

With newspaper in hand, he returned to his kitchen. The paper was laid on the small table by the window. After making some breakfast, some eggs and bread with jam, he sat down at the table. His attention turned momentarily to the sea beyond the glass, its shine looking ever so calming and beautiful. “As always,” Crowley smiled. He then turned his attention to the newspaper. 

The front page made him frown. “Another disappearance, huh? That makes—” He read the page with curiosity. 

_“This is now the eighth disappearance within a span of four and a half months. Police Chief Lucius says, ‘We are doing everything we can to find the victims or any clues to their disappearances. If anyone can come forth with any information, any at all, please contact us at the police department.’_

_With this disappearance, Anstruther has now reached its highest disappearance rate ever recorded in history. Many believe it—”_

Crowley frowned before setting the paper face down. “Eight people already. What kind of monster takes eight people?” He stood up, placing his plate within a small bucket of water to wash later. 

“Better head on down to work. Need a distraction right now.” He quickly returned to his bedroom to get ready for his day. 

After throwing on his usual ensemble—dark pants, and a button-up shirt— and fixing his short red hair in a mirror, Crowley made his way through the small streets of the town. He could have easily lived closer to the pub, but he loved walking through the charming town. He’s been here for a few years, but he still can’t get over its simple beauty: the beautiful picturesque ocean that lives along the town; the charming buildings; and the life that its people breath into it in their simple ways. He’s glad he moved here. He needed a break from city life. 

“Good morning, Crowley,” said Anathema, the owner of a small bookshop. She stood tall in a dark green dress. Her hair was tied back in an elegant braid by a matching ribbon.. Large round glasses sat upon her broad tan face. 

_“Rumor has it that she also sells occultist things_ ,” Crowley remembered what a customer said many moons ago. 

“Mornin’ witch,” he called back. He watched as an empty smile pulled at her lips. He stopped in his tracks. “Hey, are you doing alright? You look exhausted.” 

She nodded but didn’t perk up. “I’ll be fine. It’s just been—” She took a deep shaky breath. “Crowley, can I tell you something?” 

“Absolutely.” 

The tension in her body released. “Oh, good. You might think I’m crazy though, I―” 

“I’d never think you were crazy.” 

She didn’t respond, but instead yanked Crowley into her bookshop. He tumbled through the door and straightened up as Anathema shut and locked it behind them. 

“Okay, maybe I think you are a little now,” said Crowley as he looked at the impeccably clean bookshop. The shelves were straight and tidy with all books arranged neatly. It makes sense, considering that the Devices have been this way since Crowley met them upon moving to the town five years ago. 

Anathema scowled at him for a moment. “Crowley, I really need to tell you this in confidence, and only you. People already think I’m nuts for being—” 

“A witch,” interrupted Crowley. 

“ _An occultist_ ,” she corrected. “But, not only that. Now, can I take your word that you won’t tell anyone?” 

Crowley suddenly felt hot in his attire and he rocked side to side on his feet. _All of this? It must be pretty serious to her._ He rattled his head in a nodding motion. 

She sighed, “Thank you.” Anathema took a deep breath before she started talking. “I had a dream last night that wasn’t normal. Actually, I’m not quite sure if it was a dream or not, but I saw Newt.” 

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up. “You wha?” 

“I saw Newt. He took me to the beach, and he tried to tell me something. But my dream ended before he could tell me anything.” 

Crowley’s eyebrow quirked in question. She groaned before pinching the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it sounds crazy, but _please_ don’t say anything. I’m scared enough as it is, and I don’t need people coming after me when they already think—” 

Crowley nodded his head. “I understand, Anathema. And I believe you. But I have to ask, as your friend, how does that dream make you feel?” 

Anathema shook her head, her hands falling to her sides with a forceful _thump_. “I don’t know. I’m already a frazzled mess without the idea of my boyfriend showing up in my dreams after being gone for months!” Her voice cracked. 

Crowley frowned slightly before shrugging his shoulders. “It’s okay. You have me here if you need me.” 

Anathema looked at Crowley. Her brown eyes shone with unshed tears. “Thank you, Crowley.” 

He stepped towards her and pulled her into an embrace. His hands soothed along her back, ignoring how wet his shoulder was becoming. “Hey, hey, enough of that. Why don’t you go rest?” 

Anathema sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes, her big round glasses going askew for a moment. “I’ll be fine, Crowley. Besides, I have a business to run. My father is still ill, you know.” 

“I’ll have to send him some bread, then. May help him,” responded Crowley. 

She smiled at him before adjusting her glasses. “You’re really a nice guy, Crowley. I’m surprised nobody has snatched you up.” 

He scowled and a deep frown popped up on his reddening face; though he’d deny the last part in a heartbeat. “Oi, I’m not nice. I’ll charge you extra next time you come in for such an accusation.” 

She laughed a little. “I am serious, though. Thank you for letting me talk to you about this.” 

He shrugged again. “It’s no problem. We’re friends, yeah?” She nodded at him. “Then you can talk to me about anything. Now, off to work you go.” 

Crowley stepped away from Anathema and to the front door. He unlocked it after a moment of jostling the doorknob around. “I’ll see you around, Anathema.” He disappeared soon after and made his way back down the streets of Anstruther. 

After a few blocks, he reached a large brick building sitting directly along the sandy beaches. Ah, The Inferno. He put a lot of work into this place, but he’s very glad he did. He made sure that the pier was repaired, as well as all rusted parts of the door and window frames, but he tried to keep as much of its original look as possible. Large, dark colored doors greeted the customers and the small window showcased the sea. 

That had to be his favorite part: staring at the sea. Crowley loved that he moved to the small town, as he always loved the idea of living by the sea. At the ripe age of 30, he figured that he had enough money to move from the city and to Anstruther, right by where he always thought he’d love to be. 

With all these disappearances, however, he sometimes wished he had stayed in the city. Sure, Crowley heard of bad things happening in the city, but he wasn’t close to those people. Out here, in such a small town, everyone knew each other. It was heartbreaking. 

_Enough of that thinking, though. Work will help distract me._

He entered the old building, taking care to lock the door. He wanted work to do, but he still wanted a bit of alone time to set up a few things. He emptied out his fishing nets, taking care to gut the fish correctly; baked the bread he prepped yesterday; set the few tables he kept; and stocked the bar. 

As Crowley finished setting up, he heard horses and a wagon in the distance. His gaze fell outside the small front window along the road where a few horses rode by. The colors of blue and white flashed by. 

_Police? What happened?_

He stepped outside, following the trail of the horses. They screeched to a halt at a pier just down the road. Crowley watched an officer rush past the pier and onto the small beach. The officer crouched next to someone laying on the beach. 

His wide eyes watched two people jump from the wagon, a gurney in tow. As soon as the two stepped out, they paused. They yelled to the officer. Crowley watched as one crawled back into the ambulance to retrieve a large white sheet. 

His mouth flew open. _Somebody died on the beach? This early in the morning? I—_

His thoughts grinded to a halt as he heard someone yelling. His head followed the sound to a shop across from the beach. 

A bookshop. 

_Anathema._

She scrambled towards the pier, but another officer held her still. Crowley couldn’t make out what she was saying, but he could tell she was crying. He frowned deeply, stepping back inside the doorway. He knew she needed a moment to grieve, and he let her. 

\- 

Crowley sat in his pub, the opening time long past. It had been so long that it was well into the afternoon. His hands ran along the top of the bar, tempting him. What he saw, it was playing in his mind over and over. He removed his dark tinted glasses before covering his eyes. His shoulders began shuddering, and his face grew wet. 

“It was Newt,” he cried softly into the palms of his hands. “Poor, young, Newt.” 

Crowley rubbed his eyes, trying to clear the tears away. He needed answers. _I'm sure everyone does._

He stood up from his barstool and slid his sunglasses back onto his face. He stared at the bar before shaking his head. “I’m not getting piss drunk here. I’ll do it at home.” Within a few minutes, he was out the door of The Inferno and on his way home. 

He walked through the stone streets, his glasses staring firmly at his feet. As he walked, the redhead listened to the swishing of the ocean waves against the sand. His feet carried him towards its sound. 

His shoes squished into the soft sand as he stepped closer and closer to the water. He stopped just before the water could reach his shoes. Crowley’s red-covered head slowly lifted away from his feet to stare out at the blue expanse before him. 

Dark clouds covered the distant sky, but the sky above him remained a pale blue. The ocean was an expanse of ever blue crashing over blue, the mix making beautiful white foams that dissipated with each start of another wave. Crowley stared out there for a while, inhaling its salty air deeply. It calmed him somehow. 

He stared out before shaking his head and squinting slightly. “Huh,” he said to nobody. “Coulda sworn I saw someone.” He turned away from the water before making his way back home. 

_I should see how Anathema is doing. Perhaps she needs somebody right now. No, wait._ _Maybe I should leave her alone._

He opened the door to his small house and stepped inside, heaving a great sigh at his inner turmoils. He walked through the small living room and into the kitchen, immediately reaching for his liquor cabinet. His arm stretched out once more for a glass, but he shrugged. “Just the bottle today.” 

Crowley carried himself and his spoil into the living room. He lifted the whiskey right to his mouth, taking a large drink. The drinks came quickly, up until he finished the bottle. 

His head swam when he tried to retrieve more, so he grumbled, “Guess I’ll stay here” before settling into the soft cushioned chair. 

Crowley stared at the wall in front of him before turning towards the deep rumble and the tapping against his window. He forced himself stand and began to sway like a boat rocked by the sea. He took small, slow steps towards the small window to decrease his chance of falling and stared out at the sea. 

The dark clouds from earlier swallowed the sky. The sea was crashing wildly as the wind stirred it back and forth. The thunder rumbled loudly before a crash of lightning lit the sky. In the distance, a speckle of cream danced within the waves. 

Crowley rubbed his eyes. “Somebody can’t be out there right now. Stupid drunk eyes.” 

He slowly made his way back to the chair, his frame falling into it with a _thud._ His eyes felt heavy; from alcohol, exhaustion, grief, or a mix, he did not know or care. His mind faded and he fell into a restless sleep. 

_Crowley found himself upon the beach, staring out at a calm, blue ocean. He listened to the gulls above, the soft_ swsh _of the ocean pulling at the sand, and the sound of approaching steps._

_“Crowley,” the voice said. “Why do you look so troubled?”_

_Crowley turned his head to the person talking and felt his breath stop. He became speechless. He stared at a young pale, blue skinned man with wet brunette hair and broken glasses. He wore a pale blue shirt and dark pants with matching dark suspenders. Crowley saw that a slash mark decorated his throat and blood fell from his temple._

_Newton Pulsifer, the first of those who went missing: the first person he met upon moving to Anstruther: the first person who—_

_“Died. You— You died,” shuddered Crowley. Newt stared at Crowley with a quirked eyebrow._

_“You think so?”_

_Crowley nodded his head in disbelief, in anger, in grief. “Yeah, yeah, you_ are _dead.”_

_“How am I dead, Crowley?”_

_Crowley looked at Newt before turning, his back now facing the ocean. He looked down at the sand. “They found you here, Newt. Right here on the beach. Dead.”_

_Newt turned to see where Crowley’s eyes stared at the sand. “No,” whispered Newt in disbelief. “No, no the others and I—”_

_Crowley’s eyebrows rose. “Others?,” he asked in shock. “The others?” His brows then furrowed and he launched forward, gripping Newt’s collar in tight, angry fists. “What the fuck do you mean ‘the others?’ Tell me!”_

_The sky grew dark, and the wind started to whip around the pair upon the beach. The wind began tossing the waves to and fro wildly._

_Newt’s body shook as tears began falling from his eyes. “No, no. They’re all fine, they won’t die like I did!”_

_Crowley's fists tightened in Newt's shirt, practically ripping the soaked fabric._

_“Newt, what the hell do you mean?,” yelled Crowley before the sea rose high above the two._

_It crashed heavily upon the beach. The tossing waves swallowed the redhead and brunette whole and Crowley fought to be above the waves once more. But he was trapped. Countless sets of hands held his legs tightly._

_Countless faces watched his struggling. He recognized some as those of the missing, but the others were shrouded in darkness. Darkness that was beginning to swallow him. Crowley kicked and thrashed, wanting,_ needing _to be above the waves. The hands upon him kept pulling, pulling until a hand wrapped around his reaching wrist._

_The hand pulled his arm hard enough to free him. Crowley looked towards his savior, but could see nothing but a pair of pale glowing eyes._

_“I will protect you,” a soothing voice said before the eyes disappeared. Soon after his savior’s disappearance, he broke the surface and—_

Crowley awoke with a large gasp. His chest heaved as he struggled for air. He looked around him, seeing the dark living room in which he passed out. The storm still raged on, but thankfully he was not a part of it. He held onto his shirt for dear life, trying to catch his breath. 

“What the _fuck_ was that?” His mind swirled with what Newt had said within his dream, but he shook it off. “I have got to stop drinking before bed.” 

With that said, Crowley stood out of the chair and went into his kitchen. He searched until he found something to do for the rest of the night. He didn’t think he could sleep after a dream like that. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see the art work better, please check here: https://alessandraarts.tumblr.com/post/623027373761331200/welcome-to-the-do-it-with-style-mini-bang-i-am


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